


He's an Enigma

by VeloxVoid



Series: Garreg Mach University - College AU [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Ferdinand von Aegir Being an Idiot, First Meetings, Hubert von Vestra being a dick, Love at First Sight, M/M, Nervousness, One-Sided Attraction, Opposites Attract, Pining, Roommates, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24453643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeloxVoid/pseuds/VeloxVoid
Summary: Ferdinand does not expect his new roommate to be the dark, handsome, mysterious man he ends up meeting. Yet, even so, he cannot take his eyes away. Every new thing he learns about Hubert von Vestra makes him more and more attracted to him - and more and more afraid of him.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir & Hubert von Vestra, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Garreg Mach University - College AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733017
Comments: 30
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

Looking behind him as he locked his car, Ferdinand shoved his keys into his pocket and approached the house before him. It stood detached at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac, profusions of ivy obscuring most of the brickwork. A rusted number _6_ by the front door told him that this was the right place.

 _What are you doing?_ Ferdinand thought to himself as he approached the door. _You’re walking headfirst into a trap!_

Well, it wasn’t exactly an irrational conclusion. As Ferdinand swept long curls of his handsome red hair away from his shoulder, he reminisced upon how he got here, in this very strange situation.

After applying to Garreg Mach University in central Fódlan, the concept of assigned dormitories had rather quelled Ferdinand’s thirst for knowledge. The tiny bedrooms, the noise, the idea of sharing a private space with a stranger… It was needless to say, from the shudders the idea brought to Ferdinand’s skin, that it had turned him away from college life. Thus, he had begun to look elsewhere - scoured the city for cheaper places, quieter locations... all to no avail.

That was, until he'd found the advertisement. Hurrying through the city square on the way to a house viewing, a noticeboard outside the city hall had seemed to call to Ferdinand from the corner of his eye. He'd approached it.

_Apartment Roommate Required_

_Room for 1 available - large, spacious, with kitchen, bathroom, and living area_

_500G per week, bills included_

Was it suspicious? Yes. But Ferdinand had already pulled out his phone and taken a picture of the contact details. That evening, tucked under the bed covers in his hotel room, he'd swept aside a notification from Caspar bugging him about one thing or another, and had sent an email to the attached address.

_Hi,_

_I’m going to attend Garreg Mach University in the Horsebow Moon and am looking for a roommate. I was just wondering the location of your place, as I’m certainly interested._

_Thanks!_

_Ferdinand von Aegir_

Setting down his phone and getting ready to sleep, his head had barely hit the pillow before he noticed his phone screen glowing.

_6 Marquisate Crescent._

_Attached are photos of your room, kitchen, bathroom, and living room. Bring your own bed sheets._

_Email me if you’re still interested, Ferdinand von Aegir._

At that, Ferdinand had merely blinked. Was it suspicious? Absolutely. But he'd clicked on the photos anyway. The bedroom was nice - somewhat plain, with white walls and wooden flooring, but it had all the furnishings he could have asked for. No bed sheets, though. Ferdinand’s interest had piqued. The kitchen was also plain, but old-fashioned as well, and the bathroom was similarly antiquated; a four-footed bathtub was reminiscent of the von Aegir estates, which he could get used to. Lastly, the living room was vastly empty, with strange trinkets lining each dark oak tabletop.

 _Well… Why not?_ Ferdinand had thought.

Yet now, he stood face-to-face with the door of 6 Marquisate Crescent, breaking a sweat as he pondered his decision. A month before college started, completely alone and defenceless, and with an email confirming he could have a viewing today, Ferdinand knuckled his fists and knocked on the solid wooden door.

Seconds turned to what felt like hours. Had he _actually_ agreed to take a look around, without even knowing the name of whoever would be boarding him? He might as well have danced into a kidnapper’s arms. _I should turn around. Right. Now—_

When the door opened, however, Ferdinand’s jaw slacked slightly in the unexpected. Before him stood the foreboding form of a man, posture cool and powerful. He was tall, and lean, with a slim physique beneath broad shoulders and folded arms. He had a grey, almost sickly pallor to his skin and sharp, deadly features, with a face so hollow - so still, features so perfectly symmetrical - he could have been carved from marble. Skin showing no lines of age or wear; cheekbones and temples drowned in shadow; jawline and nose sharp enough to cut... The only tell-tale sign he wasn’t made from stone was his eyes - two pools of seafoam green staring out through the purple hollows of his eye sockets. Sleek waves cascaded across his forehead, the glossy colour of squid ink, cut short at the sides in a way that contrasted his long bangs so fiercely.

One sharp eyebrow raised. “Can I help you?” The voice that left those straight lips took Ferdinand by surprise, shaking him from his stupor. His face suited a deep, flowing tone - words articulated to sensual perfection. But instead, Ferdinand’s ears were met with a dry drawl, sounding almost like a sneer. 

“I, uhh--“ Ferdinand stumbled over his words. The man before him looked mature, and sophisticated, but at the same time youthful. Handsome. It pummelled Ferdinand’s expectations into the ground; a morally-questionable old man looking to entice some university students, Ferdinand had almost expected. Yet, the creation that opened the door was positively beautiful: he could have been crafted by Sothis herself. Taking a breath, Ferdinand cleared his throat, finally managing to speak despite feeling truly inadequate wearing his own casual jeans and jacket. “It’s viewing day."

While the man’s face gave no emotion, his eyes widened slightly. “That’s today.” It was a statement - not a question, and far more directed at himself than to Ferdinand.

A tiny chuckle left the red-head’s throat - though whether it was from relief, fear, or from the butterflies in his stomach, he couldn't say. “I’m… Ferdinand von Aegir.” He couldn’t take his eyes away; in a handsome black dress-shirt, the other man looked fit for a job interview - stylish, fashionable, and downright _beautiful--_

He muttered a "hm", and stepped aside. “Coming in, then?”

Ferdinand swallowed, noticing there was a lump in his throat. His chest burned and his gut fluttered. Increasingly, he became aware that he was experiencing what must have been the most intense, primal attraction of his life. Hoping it didn't look queasy, he gave a smile and stepped past the man into his house. A deep scent permeated the air around him, of faint, day-old deodorant masked by mustiness. Such an attractive aroma, and a tempting one at that.

“Should I take my shoes off?” Ferdinand asked, turning to face him. The man closed the door and cocked his head, his expression hinting that the answer was obvious. As he headed past Ferdinand into the vast, open space before them, the anxious young man noticed that his feet were clad in black socks.

 _Be polite._ Ferdinand kicked off his shoes and left them by the door, then looked around. “I presume this is the hallway?” he noted somewhat jokingly, hoping to break the silence. It did not work. The other man bowed his head in a small nod, then turned his back and headed right, descending a couple of small steps in the corner before disappearing through a doorway.

Ferdinand released a shaky breath, begging himself to remain calm. He tried to shut out the perpetual scream that had sounded in his head since seeing the man, and nodded to himself. _You’ll do fine. You’ll make a good impression. Just be normal._

Softly, Ferdinand padded over the white wooden flooring after his new potential roommate, taking in the furnishings - or lack thereof. This wide, near-empty hall hadn’t been pictured in the emails, and for good reason: it had almost nothing to show. However, a small set of stairs led down into an entrance without a door, which Ferdinand followed the dark, mysterious man down into.

Entering the kitchen, his host stood by the sink, arms remaining folded beneath the tight black shirt. His eyelids looked heavy - almost judgmental, in a half-open stare that gave him an air of disapproval. Managing to pull his own eyes away to look at the kitchen, Ferdinand took in the view - a huge window opposite the doorway he stood in showed nothing except a hedgerow, letting in dregs of bright light. In the left corner was a back door, with bright green bushes just beyond it.

“You looked at the pictures?” The man murmured, drawing Ferdinand’s attention back to him.

“Yes! I… I liked the look of the place.”

He received a blink in response before being pierced with a calculating stare. Silence reigned for a moment too long, and another nervous laugh threatened to leave Ferdinand’s throat until he was asked: “Tea?”

“Oh-! Yes, please--“

“I have cinnamon, Dagda fruit, and Hresvelg.” The man walked to a black kettle tucked into a corner of the room.

“Oh...” Ferdinand was almost dismayed. “No Seiros…? Or… Almyran pine--?”

“No.” He reached into a cupboard, retrieving two black mugs.

“Well..." _Be polite!_ "Dagda fruit will be splendid.” Behind his back, Ferdinand found himself wringing his hands; this welcome wasn’t exactly the friendliest, but his strange new roommate seemed hospitable enough. “So, you know my name,” Ferdinand said a little awkwardly, watching the man prepare their beverages with surprising sophistication. “What might yours be?”

The man gave no immediate response. He busied himself with the tea, but took time to let the leaves steep. It sent butterflies hurtling through Ferdinand’s stomach, to watch one man be so apt with tea. Crossing to the table, he set the cups down and pulled out a chair, gesturing for Ferdinand to do the same. The two men sat, and again Ferdinand found himself being stared at with narrowed eyes.

“What do you think?” came the reply at last. 

Ferdinand blinked, startled. “Hm?”

“What do you think my name is?”

 _Oh, Sothis._ “Um…”

“Go ahead,” those pale eyes began to smile, though the thin lips remained straight. Why was Ferdinand reminded of some sort of predator? A snake, or wyvern...? “What do I look like?”

Unease rising, Ferdinand found he had no option but to look hard, taking in the dark radiance that sat across the table from him. He’d never particularly found himself to be into mysteriousness, or quiet, sinister evocations, but something about this man's style just… did it for him. He was positively beautiful; cold, calculating, _intriguing_... His name would surely be something a little vague - something to match his aura… 

“I’ll never guess.” Ferdinand spoke at last, taking a sip of tea. It was sweet, but earthy; it was delicious.

One side of the man’s mouth curled slightly. “Interesting...” 

“Might you tell me?”

A small breath left his nose, and his eyes glanced downwards at his mug.

“Or, is it… embarrassing?”

“No. But perhaps I like the secrecy.”

Chills ran down Ferdinand’s spine despite the heat of the mug in his grasp. “Ohh,” he merely breathed; it seemed he enjoyed playing his games. "I believe I do, too."

In response, the man breathed out of his nose again. _A laugh?_ “I am Hubert.”

Ferdinand hesitated. Blinked. “Hubert…”

The liquid emerald of Hubert’s eyes appeared to drink Ferdinand’s image, raking in whatever of his body they could see. After what felt like an hour, he spoke again, cool as ice. “You’re von Aegir. I am von Vestra. It appears we both hail from Adrestia.”

And Ferdinand’s stomach quivered. _Hubert von Vestra…_ It suited him beautifully.

“So,” Ferdinand cleared his throat as he spoke, trying desperately to shake the strange attraction he felt rising. “You attend the university?”

Hubert outwardly laughed - a cruel sound that made Ferdinand’s skin prickle. “Why else would I be here?”

“Any number of reasons, really,” Ferdinand responded, a nervous smile upon his lips. “Who knows what somebody like you might be doing here…”

“Is that an insult?”

“No!” His jest had fallen flat, and it shot panic through the young red-head’s chest. “It is just…” He took a breath. The last thing he wanted to do was offend the person he’d be spending the next year with, and… the person he’d found himself so strangely attracted to. “... you’re my age, you live near the college…”

“Your age?” A spark lit behind Hubert’s eyes - cunning and quick.

Ferdinand felt his own eyes narrow. “Yes…?” Hubert shook his head. “You’re older?” Hubert nodded, and a grin contorted Ferdinand’s lips. “Surely not! How old?”

Hubert raised his eyebrows and let out another small laugh.

“Oh, you can’t leave me hanging!” Ferdinand heard himself moan playfully, his personality slipping out from beneath his courteous façade.

“Well, Ferdinand von Aegir. This is my house...” His roommate quipped.

“And... your rules?”

Hubert’s snake’s eyes narrowed behind his mug as he took a sip of tea. “Now you’re catching on.”

The men drank, Ferdinand trying to calm himself by making small talk to which he received mainly curt nods, shakes, or one-word answers in reply. Hubert asked no questions; his short demeanour made him seem bored, if not irritated. Yet the predator smirks he continually shot gave Ferdinand the impression he was still playing a game, and was enjoying it.

Eventually, Hubert stood, ignoring Ferdinand’s remark about Garreg Mach’s weather, and placed the two empty mugs by the sink. “So. What are you thinking?” His tone was still and demanding.

Was he asking after a decision on the housing situation? Or merely wondering what was running through Ferdinand’s mind? Panicking slightly in the desperate bid to not get this wrong, the red-head chose an answer to cover both grounds: “I like the house.”

Hubert merely looked at him. “Hm. I’ll show you to your room.” With that, he ascended the small steps from the kitchen, leaving Ferdinand lingering for a moment at the bottom, wondering whether to follow. This man was - for lack of a better word - gorgeous; an honest-to-Goddess saint walking this plane, and hands-down the most mysterious person he'd ever met. In a way, Ferdinand almost couldn't believe he was lucky enough to have met him; all the boring, strange, pompous landowners in the area… and Ferdinand had landed _this_ man? What kind of person would he be if he passed up this opportunity? Nodding to himself a little, Ferdinand hopped up the stairs after Hubert. 

Back through the doorway, he followed from a distance, until Hubert turned down a corridor. A door at the end was open, and he stood in front of it with the same stony, emotionless face. 

The room was certainly spacious, Ferdinand found upon entering, and was exactly as pictured: double bed in the centre of the left wall next to the chest of drawers, desk and wardrobe against the wall opposite, with a large, closed-curtained window either side. He took a good gander before turning to face Hubert. 

“It’s nice—“ he smiled, only to be met with an empty hallway, around him only a barren, Hubert-less space. He looked around himself at the closed wooden doors nearby. _Which is his_? he wondered, before deciding to take another scope of the house in search of the disappearing roommate. Fruitless was his attempt; all he found was an empty kitchen, empty living room, empty hall, and, mysteriously, three closed doors.

Re-entering his newfound bedroom, Ferdinand didn't know what else to do except sit down on the bed, head reeling. Not only with the relief of this new roommate not being the creep he’d almost anticipated, but because of what a smouldering, mysterious demigod he’d turned out to be. At that moment, however, Ferdinand’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out.

“ _How’s it going? :)”_

Dorothea. Ferdinand smiled, beginning to type a message back.

“ _Better than expected! Just finished looking around.”_

_“Wow, already?”_

_“Yes! Efficiency is key!”_

_“I was getting worried about you, honestly. You’re the only person I know who’d think of moving into a house without knowing who the roommate was going to be first...”_

_"Haha, what? Is that a bad thing?"_

_"... Ferdie..."_ She was always looking out for him. _“Either way, what’s the landowner like?”_

At that, Ferdinand’s smile widened and he felt a chuckle rise in his throat. Where could he begin? “ _Indescribable. You need to see him.”_

_“What does that even mean?”_

How _could_ Ferdinand begin to describe that man? He thought long and hard - perhaps it would be best to try to sneak a photo... Physical evidence was the only way to prove how… irresistible Hubert truly was. But, he was being _polite._ He did _not_ want to invade that man’s privacy. 

His eyes began to drift around the room, taking in the new surroundings while thinking of how to describe him, but a sound from the doorway made him start, each hair standing on end as if he’d seen a ghost.

"Ferdinand," the sneering voice muttered, causing the red-head’s hand to leap to his heart instinctively. At the door stood Hubert, leaning against the doorframe with one eyebrow raised.

A laugh escaped Ferdinand’s throat as his panic faded away. "You… startled me!" he cried in relief.

"I can see that."

"Oh, I apologise..." He looked around fretfully, realising he'd invited himself into the room and made himself at home. "I hope I don't seem rude or anything--"

"What do you think of the place?"

Ferdinand blinked at Hubert; the dark man’s bluntness hadn't yet failed to startle young Ferdinand von Aegir. He let a somewhat childish grin light up his face though as a thought crossed his mind: _I could very much get used to this._ Alongside his mysteriousness, which had begun to burn a hole of desire in Ferdinand’s chest, Hubert seemed to be - at the very least - a clean and organised roommate. "I'll take it," Ferdinand said with a satisfied smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Letting himself into the house with the keys had seemed strange.

This house was still not his - not really. He still felt like a stranger within its walls, as if he were being watched by a thousand invisible eyes. They made his skin crawl, and seemed to wring around his brain muttering one small, yet cruel word.

_Unwelcome._

Perhaps that was just the effect Hubert had on him, though. The dark man had kept watchful eyes on Ferdinand the entire time he’d been moving into the house, unblinking and silent. Slowly and balefully had that smirk spread across his thin, pale lips, and each time Ferdinand glanced at him, Hubert had seemed more gleeful.

Irritation had gotten the better of him at one point, Hubert’s insouciant gaze driving the stares of the invisible eyes further under his skin like pin pricks. “I don’t suppose you might like to help?” he’d asked, hoping that his tone had sounded joking despite the note of seriousness that had lined it. The boxes were heavy, and even just hauling the first two through the house had glazed a sheen of sweat across his forehead.

Hubert had shrugged. “I don’t suppose I would,” the drawl had come back to him.

Ferdinand had nearly seethed, but had given a jolly laugh all the same. “Fret not, Hubert! I was only joking!”

He was not.

That night, Ferdinand had sat by his desk, fully unpacked and with a dull ache pounding at the back of his eyes. It had been a long and arduous day; driving from his home city all the way to Garreg Mach had been cause enough for a rest, but being left to unpack and redecorate alone had left him truly exhausted.

Alas, there was no rest for a von Aegir. Ferdinand had needed to work further on the college’s entry examination, as well as tend to his best friend Dorothea fretting about whether he was okay. An hour-long phone call with the woman had been sweet, but exhausting.

Ferdinand had massaged his eyes delicately, circling gentle fingertips over closed eyelids. It had not stopped the ceaseless headache.

_Throb. Throb. Pound. Pound. Knock… knock… knock…_

“Tsk,” Ferdinand had muttered, lowering his head until his forehead hit the hard wood of the desk beneath him. If only he could sleep here, he thought… To allow his mind to wander and drift and find someplace more comforting, less busy, and much less painful...

_Knock knock._

Those had been definite raps. They'd sounded not from within Ferdinand’s head, but from his side…

He’d wheeled around, his vision cutting out for a split second in the speed of his movement. Yet when he could focus, and his eyes had found the doorway, he'd seen Hubert von Vestra's foreboding silhouette standing in it.

“I’m so sorry!” Ferdinand blurted, “I… did not hear you!” _More lies. What kind of impression must you be making?_

“Long day?” Hubert had merely asked, eyebrows drawn in a look that could have either been dismay or amusement.

“L-Long day, yes!” Ferdinand laughed out a little response, feeling his face take on an appearance of strain.

Hubert’s eyes had travelled around the room, fixating on Ferdinand’s belongings for long moments before returning to him. “Take it easy, would you?” he’d said at last, “You’ve only just moved in. Take a night off.”

He had left Ferdinand no time to respond however, turning around with a sweep of his long, black cardigan and walking away.

It was the first humanity Hubert had shown. Those words had manifested in Ferdinand’s heart as a fuzzy, warm feeling; he didn't believe it was possible for such a cold man to make him feel so warm, and had fallen asleep that night with the image of his concerned expression beneath his eyelids. He had dreamt of what was to come, seeing him every day, and growing closer to him.

But that was looking to be a slow process. For almost a month, Ferdinand had tried to break Hubert's barrier, but it was not as quick and easy as he might have hoped. Each day since then - since he'd been the bumbling, anxious mess who'd just moved in - Ferdinand had eased up a little: had felt more at home, and more at ease. Soon, he was content to roam the house in his pyjamas, stifling yawns as he poked his nose in the fridge. He’d felt comfortable enough to walk through the house barefoot, something he would never dream of doing back at home with his father’s reproachful gaze upon him.

But, tonight, whilst padding across creaky floorboards back to his room with a carton of juice in one hand, Ferdinand had heard noise.

Talking - jabbering. Chuckling and gossiping from a myriad of voices he did not recognise.

And _music._

His eyes widened and his lips parted slightly; he was hearing the television. Slowly, he headed towards the door of Hubert’s living room to find it open just a crack. A bright light glowed from within, and Ferdinand peered through to see the television turned on, playing some sort of game show. Contestants were trying to shoot arrows at a target from atop the back of a hovering wyvern; it made for an interesting spectacle, but one so geared towards failure it was evidently intended to be amusing.

And Hubert sat across the room, comfortable upon the sofa. He held something in his hand - what appeared to be a short glass, with a brown liquid within it glinting amber beneath the television's light. Ferdinand was perplexed. Hubert, watching a game show? That seemed utterly out of character. This was the first time he’d ever seen Hubert watch the television - well, it was the first time he’d seen Hubert somewhere other than his bedroom in the evenings.

Suddenly, the man called out. “I know you’re lurking.”

Ferdinand gave a little squeak, almost dropping the carton in his hands. Hubert had not so much as lifted an eye from the television set - how did he know--!?

“Don’t just stand there. Come in if you’re going to creep.”

Ferdinand swallowed, and pushed open the door slightly. "Hello!" he sang, a little awkwardly.

"Closer," Hubert purred, fixing him with a bone-chilling glare.

Ferdinand closed the door behind him from pure politeness-instincts, and soft-shoed into the room. "I didn't know you watched tv," he said.

“What do you think I am?”

 _A robot? A reptile?_ “Somebody with better taste.” _Oh no._ That had _not_ come out how he’d intended.

Hubert’s eyes had widened and he’d cocked his head; for a mere second, whilst fumbling over an apology, Ferdinand had expected to be scolded. Yet, Hubert merely smiled. It still looked twisted and cruel, but his pale eyes danced with something genuine. Something content. “I see. And, what would be in better taste?”

Relief flooded Ferdinand’s body and erupted from his mouth in an anxiety-riddled laugh. “Oh, I don’t know! Anything other than a game show, perhaps?"

"Like a reality show?" Hubert raised one sharp eyebrow.

Ferdinand winced. "N-No, not quite…" He dreaded reality shows somehow even more than game shows.

"Sit with me." For once, that cool voice was not a command; instead, it resembled more of a suggestion.

He liked when Hubert was like this. When he was calm and collected, letting lazy comments spill from his mouth without consequence.

Ferdinand’s panic had ebbed away slowly as time had passed. He'd been almost sick with nerves upon moving in, terrified of slipping up before the man whom he was so primally attracted to. But, he'd found, there had been nothing to worry about. Hubert spent most of the days somewhere secret, and the evenings tucked away in his room. He was also nocturnal, Ferdinand had found: one night in his first week, he had crept into the kitchen, heavy book raised high over his head as a weapon, to find the source of the ruckus he'd heard at 2am. Alas, it had been Hubert, skulking in the dark of the kitchen to make himself a meal.

It wasn't often Ferdinand got to speak with him, but each time he did, he grew more comfortable. More relaxed. He let himself speak more freely, and found Hubert to be - surprisingly - somewhat amicable. Admittedly the conversations could be one-sided, for at times it seemed Hubert would simply stare at him instead of responding, but it was progress nonetheless.

Evidently, tonight was no exception. Ferdinand had never been invited to spend time with Hubert before. His feet took him towards the sofa, and he sat delicately upon the opposite end of it from Hubert. The man lowered the television's volume, the chattering fading to mere murmurs.

"And how is college going?" he asked.

Ferdinand was positively taken aback. "This isn't like you… to take an interest…" He smiled a little.

"Hm," Hubert sat back with a disapproving expression. "You're right. I don't quite know what's gotten into me."

 _… An attempt at humour…?_ Ferdinand would take anything he could get. "Might you be interested in someone else's life, Mr. von Vestra?"

"I believe I might be… I do not like it." Ferdinand laughed at that, until Hubert shrugged and spoke once more. "It's just that you live in my house, that's all. If you're going to drop out of Garreg Mach I need to start looking for a new tenant."

 _Oh. Always so calculating._ Ferdinand tried not to let his disappointment show on his face. "That makes sense."

"So? How _is_ it going?"

"Oh, yes." He'd forgotten to reply. He did that a lot around Hubert. "Very well, thank you. Political science has been most of my childhood, so I find the classes interesting, at least… if not a little easy."

Hubert gave a soft _‘tch’._ “College is boring because it’s too _easy._ What more should I have expected from you?”

That comment stung. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“It means…” Hubert adjusted himself upon the sofa, tucking his legs beneath him. “I expected nothing less of the studious, try-hard Ferdinand von Aegir.” He drank from the glass in his hand, letting the brown liquid flow through his thin lips without not even so much as a wince. It was alcohol, Ferdinand was certain. 

But the residue of the liquid glistening upon his lips distracted Ferdinand. While the tip of Hubert’s tongue emerged to lick it away, the young red-head became lost in his imagination. “You drink whiskey?” was the only thought that could leave his throat.

 _“No,”_ Hubert breathed, taking a sip of the stuff while his word hung in the air, dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re so mean.” Ferdinand pouted in response, before his eyes widened with the realisation of what he’d said. He panicked for a moment, but Hubert interrupted him.

“Forgive me,” he said with a painfully snide smile. “I do not know how to act around people so…”

 _Incompetent? Childish? Irritating?_ Ferdinand could fill in the blanks.

But then, Hubert merely shrugged. “... cute.”

He felt his heart flutter rapidly in his chest, only capable of blinking confoundedly in response. Had he heard him right!? This hard, stoic man, with all of his glares and smirks, had just called Ferdinand… cute? He did not expect this - could not possibly have anticipated this after the borderline _animosity_ Hubert had shown him over the past few weeks. Imagining that he might actually consider Ferdinand as appealing in any way set the young man’s blood hurtling through his veins, his brain a scrambled mess trying so desperately to comprehend.

It seemed Hubert had grown tired of waiting for a response, however. He stood, legs looking gloriously long beneath black, high-waisted jeans, and pointed towards the television. “Are you watching this?” he asked, looking down at Ferdinand through the hollows of his eye sockets. The green was no longer visible - all that could be seen was an endless abyss of black.

“Wait,” Ferdinand stood as well, and took a few steps towards the taller man. _People so… cute._ The words rocketed frantically around the inside of his skull. “What did you mean?”

And Hubert reached out a long, slender hand. It looked smooth and milky in the room’s low light, as though beneath a glove of supple white leather. He touched Ferdinand’s hair - the thick red curls that sat in full ringlets down to his chest - and brushed some of it over his shoulder.

“It’s like I said.” His voice was low - a tantalising murmur in the back of his throat. “... Cute.”

His hand came up to Ferdinand’s forehead, and he brought his lithe fingers down through those gingery waves with a smile behind his eyes. 

“Hubert...” This moment was soft; a rose-tinged vignette seemed to frame Ferdinand’s vision as he took in the sight of the man before him. His handsome rugged face, with the slightest of smiles curling the corners of his pale lips… simply astounded him. Ferdinand took Hubert’s hand in his own, feeling it to be chilly. He had expected warm fingers - perhaps emanating as much heat as they had emanated passion mere moments ago - but alas he was met with cold, hard skin.

Hubert removed his hand from Ferdinand’s at once, letting it fall to his side. “Don’t push it,” he said, a streak of cruelty behind the low, murmuring softness.

And he turned, walking from the room to leave Ferdinand feeling as lost and alone as he had upon his first day of living here.


	3. Chapter 3

Claude von Riegan had made to be an interesting friend. His jovial energy and boundless humour had admittedly made Ferdinand question whether he had been placed into the political science classes by mistake, but the Almyran man had secrets up his gold-trimmed sleeves.

He was quick, and cunning. He had a resolution for every scenario, and an answer to each question. A darkness could emerge from beneath those glowing eyes of emerald - one accompanying strategies so complex they’d shocked even the class’s professor. He was startling in more ways than one, though; one moment he would pull a prank on Ferdinand, offering him a drink only for it to be spiked with salt, and the next he would show almost professional prowess for the class’s most difficult political problems.

Ferdinand had taken a liking to him. He had not expected to, but then again he was finding college life to surprise him from every angle.

He spoke lightly with Claude von Riegan as their class together ended, about the most assignment they’d given regarding war strategies. The two men stepped from Garreg Mach’s main building to hop down the steps outside, out into the streets. Ferdinand found himself lost in those virescent eyes, watching them glimmer so genuinely as Claude made innocent remarks. _How can such an naive-seeming man have such a dark interior…?_

“Hello? Are you listening?” Claude laughed at him, snapping him back to his senses.

“Huh?” Ferdinand blinked at him.

“Oh, man!” Claude buried his face in his palms. “I ask if you wanna grab dinner and you don’t even listen to me?”

Ferdinand felt a flush rise to his cheeks. _D-Dinner…?_ Was that a mere friendly gesture, or something more…? “It’s… a bit early for dinner, isn’t it…?” he could merely stutter.

A wobbly smile worked its way onto Claude’s full lips. “It’s 5pm.” He shrugged. “We eat early sometimes in Almyra.”

He was right; 5pm was of course an acceptable time to eat. And, who was Ferdinand to refuse a social invitation - something which he so rarely ever received? Yet, just as Ferdinand’s lips parted, returning the smile, he yelped as a weight hit his shoulder and dug down into his skin.

A hand. Ferdinand turned and made a sound of utter shock as the cool, chiselled face of Hubert von Vestra filled his vision. His hair of jet covered one pale eye, yet the other shone out at Claude as though spurring him onwards. “Sorry,” he almost sang. “Ferdinand can’t make it.”

Ferdinand was frozen, but movement from Claude caught his eye. The other man held up his hands in a sort of surrender. “Don’t worry,” he said with an uneasy smile. “We can rearrange to another day, huh, Ferdie? Maybe lunch next time!”

Hubert’s iron grip released, and he took a few paces backwards. Ferdinand swallowed, feeling that fear and confusion had spiked in his stomach to leave him a shaken, speechless mess. Why was Hubert here? Why was he cancelling plans for him? Ferdinand had no choice but to nod, feeling his ginger curls bounce almost enthusiastically about his jaw, and say: “Sure.”

Claude nodded back. “Hope I didn’t interrupt whatever you had planned. See ya tomorrow, Ferds!”

 _See you tomorrow,_ Ferdinand’s mind whispered as he watched the other man disappear down the street. An opportunity missed. An opportunity for friendship? Or _had_ Claude implied something more...?

Only then did he remember; a dark, sinister presence manifested behind him and seemed to cast a shadow over him, making his skin prickle with a chill. He turned slowly to see Hubert standing, jaw raised, eyes trained downwards onto Ferdinand’s own.

One of his long, slender arms rested atop a car: a sleek, black vehicle that Ferdinand recognised as being the man’s own. “Would you like a lift home?” he asked in his velveteen voice.

But Ferdinand’s legs wouldn’t move. An emotion that resembled fear had begun to swirl in the pit of his stomach; Hubert’s actions could not have been innocent – perhaps he even meant to humiliate him in front of Claude. “Why did you do that?”

But Hubert’s response was immediate, his voice silky-smooth. “You don’t remember? We already have plans.”

Ferdinand’s head reeled: never once had Hubert attempted to make a plan with him, and Ferdinand had always been far too frightened to initiate. “What are you talking about?” he asked, but - of course - he received no response. Hubert merely slipped into the car, and Ferdinand managed to unbind his legs enough to follow suit.

They drove home in silence. Hubert let him back into the house without uttering a word, and Ferdinand felt almost like a scolded puppy, loping through the doorway and into the hall sullen and miserable. He could have been eating a fancy dinner with Claude - the smartest person in his class, and a fascinating one at that. He could have been making a friend – someone other than Dorothea, who had pursued her dreams over at the Mittelfrank Opera House. Yes, Ferdinand could have been enjoying himself, meeting new people, making new connections, but instead, Hubert had ushered him back home.

Why had Ferdinand obeyed so mindlessly? He was a grown man, and was not owned by Hubert no matter how much rent he owed him… or how much he was attracted to him. He felt his eyebrows furrow and his lip curl, and he turned around to see Hubert hanging up his jacket by the door. In a surge of madness, he opened his mouth, and shouted a: “Hey--!”

Before he was cut off.

“Do you have dinner plans?” Hubert asked lazily, turning around and regarding him through indifferent eyes.

It caught Ferdinand off-guard. He wanted to shout, to be angry, but instead one word wheeled around in his mind almost tauntingly.

_Dinner? Dinner!?_

“Not anymore,” he answered, confused.

“Good. Go and put on a suit.” Hubert began to walk down the corridor, towards his own room.

“A-A suit?”

“Your best. And be ready soon.” He disappeared into his room, closing the door gently behind him.

A suit? Sothis-forsaken _dinner plans?_ Those two in combination could only mean one thing: a fancy meal. But, two social invitations in one day? Both from very handsome and mysterious men? Ferdinand stood, astonished, before remembering his instructions.

_Suit. Your best._

He fled to his room at once.

Whilst scouring his wardrobe, tossing aside his boring formal black suit and the silver one he donned to the opera, he began to think. Admittedly he was not capable of thinking much – too dazed and dumbfounded to allow anything more than mindless screaming to cross his mind – but one thought struck him.

What could Hubert’s intentions be with this? Interrupting Ferdinand’s plans with Claude to humiliate him was indeed a possibility, but what if he had grown… possessive? Ferdinand lived beneath his roof – perhaps he would also have to live by his rules, too…?

The thought chilled him. He did not like it. Hubert’s mysteriousness had been exciting once, but the motives behind this particular endeavour truly eluded him. And for the first time where Hubert was concerned, Ferdinand did not like being in the dark.

When at last he’d decided upon an outfit – his favourite sky-blue suit and tie with a crisp white shirt beneath – he looked in the mirror. _Yes._ This was certainly his best. Just as he began to style his hair, pulling the curls up into a high ponytail, he felt a pinch in his eye.

_Sothis._

The vision in his left eye blurred at once as Ferdinand realised. His contact lens had fallen out.

_Sothis!_

He tied his hair back hastily and fell to his knees, pawing over the dark wooden floorboards in search of his elusive contact – a difficult endeavour with only one eye to aid him. Swearing under his breath, praying the Goddess wouldn’t judge him for such profanities, he heard a knock. And his heart stopped.

“Hurry up,” Hubert demanded through the door.

“I-I’ll be just a moment--!” Ferdinand called, and abandoned his quest to instead run to his dresser. He threw open his desk drawers, tossing aside the contents with frantic motions to find his other box of contact lenses.

“We’re going to be _late...”_ Hubert sang through the door, voice far too sweet to be comforting.

And it was with a sinking feeling in his chest that Ferdinand turned to his bedside table. He had no other choice. Perched next to his reading lamp lay his most recent read: _Untold Tales of St. Seiros._ It was not the novel that held his fate, however.

Ferdinand crossed to the table and made a swipe at the glasses that sat happily atop the book. They were horn-rimmed, with a tortoiseshell frame to match the gingery colour of his hair. There was no other option – no time to fiddle around trying to find and equip himself with new contact lenses. Resigned, he pulled the remaining one from his eye to cast himself in momentary blurriness, and donned his glasses.

He looked a fool; a nerd, as Dorothea had always dubbed him. But, at least he could see. Grabbing his wallet and phone, Ferdinand took a deep breath and opened the door. As anticipated, Hubert stood at the bottom of the hall, but the sight that met him took Ferdinand’s breath away. He blinked, and began to panic as he felt his cheeks heat.

 _Please don’t be blushing,_ he begged himself internally. But he couldn’t help it.

Hubert von Vestra wore a sleek black suit and waistcoat with a crimson shirt beneath, the top two buttons of which were undone. Ferdinand swallowed as he noticed. His hair remained unchanged – still the choppy, lazy mess of loose black curls crowning his face – but looked alluring all the same. What took Ferdinand back the most, however, was the gloves; Hubert wore a pair of thin white gloves, the material looking silken and pristine. With one hand, he gestured to the door.

“I _do_ hope you’ve not made us late,” Hubert drawled, eyes fixed on Ferdinand as he walked through the hallway on shaky legs.

As he passed Hubert, taking in the aromatic scent of cologne as he did, Ferdinand stopped. “And, if I have, where might we be late to?” he asked.

Snake’s eyes narrowed at him, a daring glint lighting beneath the pale green, and Hubert emitted a low chuckle. “Why, dinner, of course.”

That did not help Ferdinand at all.

“Why would you interrupt Claude? He was offering dinner plans with me too.”

Hubert shrugged. “I intended to surprise you. It is hardly my fault that the day I planned just so happened to be the day Claude decided to as well.” He smiled. “If anything, Claude interrupted _me.”_

Ferdinand’s stomach fluttered. _Surprise? The day he planned?_ It made no sense. Yet, the fuzzy feeling inside of him could not be ignored: a dinner date with Hubert was something he couldn’t pass up. And, truth be known, he would prefer such a dinner date with Hubert, the man forever on his mind, than one with Claude anyway.

 _Wh-What am I saying!?_ Ferdinand cursed himself as he passed through the doorway, making his way over to Hubert’s car again. _Dinner date? Impossible!_ Clearing his mind of such naive thoughts, he took a seat in the passenger’s side and watched his roommate – debonair in such a fascinating suit – make his way over to sit beside him.

Hubert was captivating. Handsome, hospitable, and strangely charming despite his closed-off nature. Behaving in such a manner was unusual for him. Perturbing perhaps, as a part in the back of Ferdinand’s mind fretted over an ulterior motive, but not wholly unwelcome.

“I hope you’re hungry,” said Hubert. And for once, his eyes did not smirk, nor mock, nor imply something dangerous as they so often did when regarding Ferdinand. Now, they looked earnest, as if he genuinely looked forward to what was to come.

And Ferdinand decided he did too; that one glance chasing away every doubt he had. “I am,” he smiled. “Take me away.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm... looks like this is gonna be a slow-burn...
> 
> Thank you so much for the support so far! I'm glad people enjoy this, so here, have another chapter :) This is lots of fun already!
> 
> My Twitter is @VeloxVoid if anybody wants more updates on the sorta stuff I'm doing <3


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